


The Wedding Job

by galactic-pirates (stillsearching47)



Series: Storybrooke Carnival [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 19:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15493479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillsearching47/pseuds/galactic-pirates
Summary: His hand was strong and firm in hers, the one constant as they kept moving. Gold gave her a warm grin as he took several deep breaths, their hands were slightly sweaty now but Lacey wouldn’t let go for the world.





	The Wedding Job

**Author's Note:**

> This was started for A Monthly Rumbelling prompt "Runaway Bride" August ... 2017, so yeah it's been lingering half-done on my HD for ages. Many thanks to _@mariequitecontrarie_ for giving me the encouragement I needed to finish it and for beta reading.

Lacey smiled softly at Gold as he guided her down the aisle. Their arms were looped together, his hand resting on top of hers providing a comforting warmth. In the background, the traditional bridal march was playing through the stereo system.

The handful of guests who had been invited stood in polite, respectful silence, but Lacey could see disapproval etched into some faces. It was interesting to see who was caught up in the romance of ‘the wedding’ and who was seeing through the charade. The stereotype would be the weepy eyed women, clutching tissues and dabbing at their eyes. However, in Lacey’s experience, it was more likely to be the men that accepted all of this crap at face value, and the women who turned their noses up to the ceiling, their eyes like daggers of mistrust.

It wasn’t a long aisle, just a handful of steps from the doors to the table in front of the registrar. The music clicked off, an expectant hush descending on the gathered crowd.

“Good afternoon, everyone. We are here today to witness the union of Belle March to Edgar George Livingstone. My name is Thomas Milner and I will be conducting the ceremony today. If you would please be seated,” Jefferson announced.

He smiled at them both, his fingers twitching at his side in an unusually restrained sign of his natural exuberance. He was playing the part of the registrar and a certain decorum was expected.

Lacey winked at her groom – Edgar - who blushed bright red from his tartan bowtie up to his thinning white hair. He tottered back, clutching his cane tightly as he stabilized himself. Beside her Lacey heard Gold snort quietly, and she straightened her back, a casual toss of her head making her chestnut curls bounce. Playing the demure bride-to-be would never have worked, not at the pace all of this had to move; In Gold’s words, ‘being a saucy little minx’ came naturally, so why not play to her strengths?

The door, which had been closed after her entrance, banged open. “Stop!”

“Seriously?” Lacey mumbled under her breath, rolling her eyes in annoyance. They hadn’t even arrived at the ‘if anyone wants to object now is the time’ portion of the ceremony, which everyone knew was the traditional moment for dramatic entrances and declarations. Then she saw Jefferson’s eyes widen slightly and so she slowly turned. “Well shit.”

“That’s my wife!” the elderly man, who had entered, shouted.

He waved his fists, but he looked more bewildered than angry, and Lacey thought for a nanosecond she should feel sympathy, but seriously could he not work out what was going on? He had burst into the registry office for crying out loud, he had to have some idea.

“Mr. Dudley, what an unexpected pleasure.” Jefferson strode forward and grabbed his hand, shaking it vigorously. While everyone stared, Lacey felt Gold grab her hand and pull her towards the emergency exit.

“Very nice to see you, now if you’ll excuse me I’m very late for ... tea. Goodbye.” Jefferson bolted out of the main doors.

At the same time Lacey stumbled after Gold through the side fire door. The second they were clear, they started running. A muffled uproar started behind them but they were already gone. His hand was strong and firm in hers, the one constant as they kept moving. She was a carnie; doing ridiculous stunts in a dress and high heels was in her blood, so running down the sidewalk was no problem. Gold’s weak ankle was strapped firmly with a brace, his cane back in his trailer. The wind was making her hair stream behind her and Lacey started to laugh breathlessly as they slowed to a stop. Gold gave her a warm grin as he took several deep breaths, their hands were slightly sweaty now but Lacey wouldn’t let go for the world.

“Well that was fun.” Lacey snorted.

Gold rolled his eyes. “If by fun you mean running like crazy to avoid arrest, then yes, gangs of fun,” he said, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm.

Lacey playfully bounced her shoulder against his. “It certainly gets the blood pumping and you know all that adrenaline does things to a girl,” she said suggestively.

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and she saw Gold’s eyes darken at the implication. She shivered a little at the promise in his gaze. Gold was such fun to rile up and boy was it _always_ worth it. She hadn’t been kidding about the adrenaline and her mind skipped ahead to the moment they got back to his trailer. He might carefully - because he was always careful even in rough moments - push her against the door, or maybe she’d push him down onto the bed and ... the sound of a horn interrupted her fantasizing.

“Anyone need a ride?” Jefferson asked airily.

“About time.” Gold grunted.

Lacey’s lips twitched at Jefferson’s unknowing double entendre. Gold helped her up into the van, which she was certain was designed by someone who was in the inner circle of the conspiracy against short people, before hauling himself into the cab and slamming the door shut. The van lurched forward as Jefferson pointed it in the direction of the field the Storybrooke Carnival was calling home this week. Gold’s thigh brushed against hers and she winked at him, interlacing her fingers with his. He smiled again and relaxed against the seat, the tension bleeding out of him as they put more distance between them and the registry office.

She was pretty relieved herself; for all her cavalier words she didn’t really fancy doing time for conning some rich perverted old men. It was a scam they’d been pulling for the last few months. The carnival would roll into town, Gold would dress in his best suit and head for the local gentleman’s club and make friends with the richest mark he could find. He’d then introduce ‘Belle’ as the daughter of an old friend who he was trying to see settled with a ‘good man’. It made Lacey gag at the thought, but the rich old men just ate it up with a spoon.

They made their money several ways, which was why it was the best gag to run, if one trick didn’t work there were others. Crying about a debt was pretty reliable, but what always worked was the gift registry. Quite why everybody thought they needed toasters Lacey didn’t know, some lame-ass tradition maybe? But Jefferson was ace at fencing the crap and at the end of the day they made plenty of bills - which was the entire point.

The carnival was all but dead, they needed a cash influx just to survive, and they needed even more Benjamins if they wanted to resuscitate it. They would never get the glory days back but before they started pulling cons, band-aids were covering the bullet holes. They were one patched repair from disaster - everything looked tired and beat up as hell. The carnival was still a long way from healthy but some parts were starting to gleam like new, which meant business was picking up a little as parents were more agreeable to bringing their kids. The spiral was starting to go up rather than down for a change.

Lacey grimaced as Jefferson drove into the carnival field, and not just from the van bouncing on the uneven sod; her father was glowering again. He had always liked to stand in the doorway and watch their fellow carnies going about their business. The van lurched to a halt, the engine spluttering before it died, and her father’s scowl deepened. He turned and headed back into his trailer, slamming the door behind him.

“Well, this is us, thank you for traveling with Jefferson limos,” Jefferson quipped, reaching into the back for his trademark top hat. He pulled it on, twisting it to a rakish angle, and winked at them before jumping down. The metallic sound of the van door slamming shut made her jump, and she scowled, her hands curling into fists. Lacey stared at her lap, her nails cutting into her palms, and then Gold’s hand was there, gently prying her hands apart to hold within his.

“I’ve been thinking.” Gold cleared his throat.

She moved her head slightly, allowing her to glance up at him through her eyelashes. He sounded uncharacteristically nervous and she tensed, resisting the urge to look at her father’s trailer. It was going to be about her dad, and she was so damn tired of talking about it because nothing was going to change. Her dad had never liked Gold, and that dislike had turned into outright hatred once after they’d started sleeping together.

It probably would have been better if she’d told him. Instead he’d found out along with half the company because she’d forgotten the post-rehearsal meeting and jumped Gold in the ring of the main tent. When she got back to their family trailer she’d found her stuff tossed out and blowing around the field. She’d been living in Gold’s trailer ever since. A serious miscalculation on her father’s part if he’d wanted her to stop screwing Gold.

A beat later Lacey realized that Gold hadn’t continued. She sighed and straightened, looking him in the eye, a stinging retort hovering on her tongue. This was so _not_ what she had planned for when they had got back but seeing her dad had popped her happy bubble. She was so damn tired of that too because _that_ was on _her_. Her dad only had the power she gave him and even after all this time he was still under her skin.

“You’ve been thinking,” Lacey repeated unwillingly.

“Yes.” Gold nodded, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” she prompted.

“I don’t want us to run the wedding scam anymore,” he blurted. She opened her mouth and he cut her off, answering her unasked question. “Not because of today, I was thinking about this even before today. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, actually.”

“It’s easy money,” Lacey pointed out. Although truthfully getting married every week was starting to grate.

“I don’t care about the money. I don’t want …” Gold took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eye.

It was too intense, and she wanted to look away. Her breath caught in her throat. It was like their eyes were locked together and she could feel something building, the tension in the van rising to a crescendo.

“I don’t want to watch you marry anyone else. The only man I want you to marry is me.”

Lacey blinked. She hadn’t seen that coming. “Was that a proposal?”

Gold smiled crookedly. “Do you want it to be?”

She shrugged but the warmth suffusing her chest tugged at her lips, her smile giving her away. She twisted, her eyes skipping over the carnival but this time they weren’t drawn to her father’s trailer – they landed on the coaster.

“Not just yet.” Lacey squeezed his hand and leaned over him to open the van door. “Five minutes maybe. I have an idea.”


End file.
